Lost In Time, and Lost in Space, and Meaning
by Fiyeraaron
Summary: In which Éponine is the villain and Enjolras is the hero.


I don't even know where this came from. I swear, my hand slipped and this just appeared.

* * *

They were sworn enemies from the start. He was the only child of the hero, and she the only child of the villain. Her father liked the idea of making havoc for fun, and his father just wanted their city to be free from destruction.

She's called Éponine, he learns from a very young age. His father almost drills it into his brain, that 'one day, she'll be the evil to your goodness'. They were born just one week apart, when everybody was happy about the fact there would be another hero to save them; him. Then, she was born and scared everyone again, making them reliant upon him and his father even more.

It's a lot of pressure for a ten year old, because he's never even spoken to her, yet he knows that one day they'll probably end up in a death match. He's never seen her in person either, but he does know what she looks like. Sometimes when he watches the news, there are reports about Thenardiér and what he's been up to, and they'll mention his daughter.

His father once told him that he was the personification of good, that he was what a superhero should look like- blond hair, blue eyes, strong body. And, since that's what he has to go by, Éponine is obviously not good. Dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, petite frame- it doesn't help that she almost always wears black.

But anyway, he's only ten. He doesn't have to worry about this stuff until he's all grown up, and by then maybe there won't be any more conflict. It's too much to worry about right now.

* * *

He's fifteen when they meet for the first time. His dad has taken him out for a training session- how to escape from a burning building whilst making sure there are no more citizens left behind, how to survive a fall from a five story window, pretty basic things. Plus, he's only just turned fifteen, he can't learn all the professional things yet.

It just so happens that she's having a training session too. He doesn't know if their fathers saw each other either, but it isn't mentioned by his, so he figures it's safe. He's currently checking the walls in a plain white room of the abandoned warehouse, seeing if they are hollow enough to jump through, when a girl in a black hoodie and black leggings jumps through it instead. It makes a loud noise, and he just stands there, petrified for a while, hoping to god that his father doesn't find out someone beat him to it.

She's got white plaster in her hair, and she startles when she collects herself and notices someone else is in the room. After she studies him for a while, he guesses she recognises who he is, and begins to smirk at him.

"Pretty cool, huh?"

Yes, he admits, it _is_ pretty cool, that's why he was so excited to eventually do it. Alas, she stole his chance.

He doesn't say anything, just lifts his chin and looks her up and down. He's been homeschooled his whole life, so it's pretty weird to be in the vicinity of a girl, this particular one especially. He takes the opportunity to size up the girl, work out how he'd be able to get one over on her, beat her in an inevitable battle.

"You're Enjolras, right?" She says it abruptly, and it seems really confrontational- the way they're standing, literally on opposite sides of the room, glaring at each other.

"Yes. And you're Éponine." His voice comes out smaller than he expected it to, and it makes him sound younger than he is. He needs to intimidate her, show her who is boss, not embarrass himself. He clears his throat, and stands up straighter.

She laughs at him, the smirk still plastered on her face. "Correct, dufus." She quirks an eyebrow at him.

He chuckles a bit at this, but stops when he realises what he is doing. This is his enemy! One day, they will hate each other uncontrollably, undeniably and irrevocably. Yet, here he is, laughing with her. Unacceptable. So, he thinks of a good comeback, as all fifteen year olds would. However, as they continue to stare at each other, his mind goes blank and he doesn't know what to say, so he just stands there awkwardly. His father might come and find him any second now, and he really doesn't want to have to explain this.

"I should be going," She looks around the room, shrugging, "got some more devious things to practise." She grins at him then. She hops through the hole in the wall, which is quite amusing, if he says so himself. "Have fun, loser."

He ends up just stood there, staring at the hole in the wall. When his dad comes and finds him, he's still stood in that exact position. His dad congratulates him, thinking he was the one to jump through, and he just smiles at him, glancing back towards the hole.

* * *

They're 19 when they meet again. It's more innocent this time, however. Well, kind of. He has a friend; Combeferre. His only friend. And it's Combeferre's birthday. So he has a party. And it just so happens that Combeferre has a friend called Marius, who is friends with Éponine. So she ends up at the party as well. All of this is unbeknownst of him, of course.

He actually sees her when her and Marius are walking through the door. They're really close together, which unnerves him a bit, but he blames that on the fact that she's an aspiring super villain, which means Marius is in obvious danger. That's obviously why he's so affected by their linked fingers. The dude with stupid fluffy hair is being endangered- he should go and intervene. He really should. But when he stands up to go and confront the menace, Combeferre walks up to the pair and they give him gifts and take off their coats, and it's all friendly and sweet, and totally different from what he expected from the nuisance to society.

This boy called Courfeyrac suggests they play spin the bottle, a game Enjolras has only ever heard about. They crowd around an empty bottle of something Enjolras has never heard of, and partake in the most stupid game ever. He's 19, surely he should be doing something more useful than watching a spinning glass bottle to see who would kiss next.

Since he suggested the game, Courfeyrac goes first. He ends up kissing a girl called Musichetta, a boy called Joly's girlfriend. For this, he learns that spin the bottle can be used as a pathetic way to get taken girls to kiss you without getting blamed for cheating. He hopes to god that he won't have to kiss anyone.

Musichetta kisses a boy called Bossuet, who then kisses Jehan. It's such a long list of people kissing other people that he starts to blank out, completely forgetting about the game. It isn't until Combeferre kisses Éponine that he starts paying attention again. He watches it all attentively, noting the way the villain puts her hand on Combeferre's arm, and he puts his hands on her hips. It annoys him, and he has to look away. He decides that he doesn't like this game, as it is too informal, too childish for the superhero- he should be out practicing jumps and memorising maps, not sat here hating such an idiotic game.

But then the bottle lands on him, and it's Éponine who spun it, and he just sits there. She's looking at him, almost like she hadn't realised he was even at the party, but then she smirks at him. And then all he can focus on is her lips and how she's crawling towards him, and he doesn't know what to do. She's really close all of a sudden, and her hair is all over her face, and he can feel her breath on his lips. She doesn't touch him at all, kneeling centimetres away from him, not making the final move.

So he does it. He leans forward and lets instinct take over. He's not had time for girls before, so this is all new to him. Yet when he puts his hand on her hair, laces his fingers through it, he feels like he knows exactly what to do. Her hands are on his shoulders, and it transforms from gentle kisses to feeling like if he doesn't have his lips attached to hers constantly, he may die. And he's pulling, and she's sighing and his heart feels like it's going into overdrive. But then she pulls back and it's over.

She crawls back over to Marius without making eye contact with him. Marius is looking confused at him, almost wary, and Éponine's eyes are downcast as Marius takes her hand. He just sits there, staring at her, dazed. He concludes that what he just did was probably the biggest sin in the history of super heroes and their conflict with super villains.

That night, after she refuses any contact with him whatsoever, he goes to sleep and dreams of her. And in his dreams, she's smiling up at him, and he's hugging her, and he can't think of a better way to spend his night.

* * *

Her father dies in battle with his. Apparently something happened with a train, nobody was injured besides from her father. He doesn't want to know the details because he knows that whatever they are, Éponine is going to have to get revenge. And he's not ready for that.

* * *

His father is getting old, he knows that. He's done his duty, saved the city from Thenardiér, been the super hero he was always meant to be. So, he kind of half expects when his father tells him it's time to make himself known.

It's not that he doesn't want to- it's been inevitable since birth. It's just that he doesn't want to. Which doesn't make sense.

Because on one hand; he wants to bring justice to the people, fight evil and make people pay for their crimes. But on the other; Éponine.

It's not like they're best friends- okay, it's not like they're even normal friends- but he just has this certain feeling towards her that makes him want to protect her, to make sure she's okay at all times. Which is hard, considering their relationship with each other. It's kind of a given that they have to end up in confrontation, which, trusting Éponine, will probably end up in there being something like fire or a death ray (he doesn't know what super villains use, okay?!), which will obviously mean he has to retaliate. Which he doesn't want to do.

* * *

They have their first confrontation at the local supermarket. Enjolras really wanted some raspberries, and, since it's the middle of winter which means they're out of season, he ends up searching for them for longer than he originally intended. But then when he finally finds where they should be, he sees that there is a person stood in his way. And he recognises this person. Long brown hair, petite figure. He'd know her anywhere. It helps that she's wearing a black leather catsuit (and, _damn_, it's a nice- catsuit, yeah, the... catsuit is nice).

He clears his throat. He's dressed in his signature outfit, a cliché that he couldn't avoid when he was professing himself as the new superhero. She notices him instantly, and he almost smiles. Almost.

"Oh, hey." She turns around almost lazily, jutting a hip out to the side and lifting an eyebrow at him.

"Um, hi." He doesn't know what to say. "Sorry about your, you know, dad... And stuff." He feels awkward. He's thinking about the last time they saw each other in person, and it's making him embarrassed.

"Yeah. Your dad is a dick." She nods her head.

"Well, I'm sure my dad thought yours was a dick too." The descriptive words they were using didn't help the situation. Especially when the revealing outfit she was wearing was dramatically affecting the revealing outfit he was wearing.

"Hmm." She nods and turns back around, leaving him stood there, staring at her hair.

"We're enemies now." He says it without thinking.

He sees her nod her head. "We were always enemies, loser." She turns around, smirks at him, then walks away.

Then he's just stood there, staring at an empty shipping container labelled raspberries.

* * *

Their next meeting doesn't go as cordially as the last. There's a fire at a local office block, and when he gets there, he sees a flash of black leather. It's hard, but he gets everyone out of the burning building before the fire fighters get there. They calm the fire down before it spreads to other buildings, but he's distracted by the fact that he's not seen Éponine since he first arrived on scene.

He asks around, people from inside the building who are capable to talk to him. They tell him that it was a man in black, definitely not a woman, who had started the fire. This confuses him because he only knew of Éponine. Who else could there be to rival him? He selfishly likes having Éponine as his villain, because he knows that he can keep her safe.

He searches around for any black leather, any traces of evidence to hint towards her having any involvement in this. But when he finds none, he results to head home.

On the way, though, he spies two people in mysterious black clothing heading out of an equally black car. One is Éponine, that he is definitely sure of. The other is a man in an outfit similar to that of his own, but in pure black. The only weird thing about their outfits is the red ribbon they both have wrapped around their wrists.

He almost runs towards them, stopping abruptly in front of the two as they head towards an alley way behind him. The man is almost a male version of Éponine. Dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, but with a stature to rival his own. It's intimidating, to say the least.

"Éponine." He nods politely towards her. Then turns his attention towards the man, trying to convey his curiosity through his body language.

He hears Éponine sigh. "Oh my god," she mumbles, then starts more clearly, "this is Montparnasse." She gestures towards the other guy.

"She's my partner in crime." The boy- Montparnasse- smirks down at Éponine.

"Partners in crime?" The words taste awful in his mouth, and he almost spits them out. He looks at Éponine with questioning eyes, looking affronted all the while.

"Yep. Pretty much what he said." She shrugs, careless.

"Did you start that fire, Éponine?"

"No, I did."

He turns his attention back to the tall guy, his new rival. He seems proud of what he did, which infuriates Enjolras.

"Why would you do that?" He glares at the boy.

Éponine interrupts. "It's our job, Enjolras. We're the villains. We fuck shit up, you make it right again. That's how the world goes." She seems angry at him for some reason. If anybody should be angry, it's him. She could have at least had the _courtesy_ to warn him- to give him some damn hint that she might get a partner, instead of springing it upon him now.

They walk past him then, and go into the alley way. He doesn't know where they're going or what they're doing, but he doesn't follow them. He's far to angry at them, at her. So, like always, he just turns around and watches her retreating figure.

* * *

He doesn't hear from her for about a month after his meeting with her and the other dude. He doesn't know if she's lying low or plotting something, so he tries to be prepared at all times.

One day when he's meeting up with Combeferre to discuss a new book he's read, she shows up. Well, across the street from him, but whatever. He likes to think she knew he'd be there.

They raid a bank. Éponine and Montparnasse, together, the two of them, fulfilling their title of '_partners in crime_'. They should just get married and have little villain kids. Not that he cares.

But he has to rudely leave Combeferre at the café across the road, and run towards the bank. It's kind of an unspoken rule that all known superheroes and villains have to wear their signature outfits at all times, so he's already clad in his super cool justice gear.

He doesn't know how they got behind the bulletproof glass and counters, but they did, so they are currently opening vaults and safes. There are people cowering on the floor, so he has to silently usher them out of the bank without alerting them. The two of them seem occupied, so he has ample time to remove all the innocent citizens from the imminent danger before locking the doors of the bank with his complimentary key (he's the city's super hero, he gets rights). They still haven't noticed him, so he just waits for them to realise everyone has gone.

So, when Éponine turns around and finds all the innocent civilians out of the bank, and him just stood there, she hesitates before alerting Montparnasse.

It's confrontational, tense, and Enjolras can hear police sirens outside.

All three of the just stare at each other for a while. Then, suddenly, as the doors burst open, the two of them are gone. He guesses that they planned an escape route beforehand, because it's so sharp and precise that he can't even work out where or how they left.

They steal a substantial amount of money, and they're discussed in the media so much that Enjolras feels like, even if he hadn't been at the actual scene of the crime, he could describe it perfectly. But they're actual criminals now- they could get put in prison for ages.

It isn't until a week later, when he's sat in the same café with Combeferre, silently letting his eyes wander to the bank across the road, that he realises he could have stopped them easily. Maybe he didn't want to.

* * *

He takes up staying in all day. He works, obviously, a super hero can never have spare time. But he just sits in his apartment, researching Éponine and Montparnasse, constantly checking the news to see if they've done anything new. He doesn't even know why he isn't going outside. There's so much he could be doing- he could be helping children get balloons out of trees, or doing a presentation at a local school, or adopting abandoned kittens. Yet he's just sat in his bedroom, staring at his laptop, a cup of scolding hot tea in his hand.

He's really just bored. Éponine hasn't done anything for three weeks- that's three weeks of him just sitting there in his costume, just waiting for any signal at all. It shocks him when he works out that he needs her. Not in that way- he doesn't need her at all really, it's just that he can only be the good guy when she's being the bad guy. He misses their confrontations.

Which is why he is so surprised and happy when she shows up at his apartment one night. He doesn't know how she got in, but he walks out of the living room to refill his tea, then returns to find her sat in his favourite red leather chair. She's got her signature black outfit on- black leather, thigh high high-heeled boots, red lipstick. He's not gonna pretend- it's sexy, especially seeing her there in his own personal space.

He's not even wearing his custom outfit, he's dressed down today; blue jeans, red T-shirt. It's different, but, in his defence, he didn't expect her to be there. If he had known, however, he would have planned accordingly.

She just sits there and smirks at him. He thinks he must look like a deer caught in headlights, his tea clutched in his hand.

"You've not been around much." She lifts an eyebrow at him.

"Neither have you." He results to just go and sit across from her instead of just staring at her. He settles his tea on the coffee table between them, and rests his elbows on his knees.

"Rumour has it that you've been a recluse since the bank robbery." She says it so innocently that he doesn't know how to respond. His mind has gone fuzzy and he just sits there. He hopes it'll come off like he's thinking about something smart that a super hero would think about, but he's really just trying to discreetly take glances at how the leather clings to her body.

They sit in silence for a while, and she just smiles at him.

"Well, I can't exactly fight crime when there is no crime to be fought." He counters.

"That's true." She nods, then continues. "But there were other acts of villainy."

He knows. He knows that, after a week of no Éponine, other aspiring villains tried to one up her. Nine days after the bank robbery, somebody tried to raid a supermarket- yeah, like _that's_ better than a bank robbery. He had seen it on the news, but when he had seen ginger hair instead of brown, he had convinced himself that the police were going to show up any second; he couldn't sort it out before them if he tried. Sure, it may make him a bad hero, but he has preferences.

"Yeah, but..." He splutters for a while. "Shut up." He feels like a six year old. God, the things she does to him. She's gotten so under his skin, you'd think they were actually really close.

She doesn't say anything, so they sit there and stare at each other. He wants to say it's awkward, but it's not at all. The air in the room feels tense and he feels anticipation building up inside of him, like something is going to happen. He skims his eyes over her again, and that's when he notices the flash of red on her wrist. She's obviously tried to cover it up, as it is tucked under the leather, but some of it is sticking out.

"Where's Montparnasse?" He says it before he's aware of it. He's still staring at the ribbon when she straightens her back.

"That doesn't matter." She says it so sternly that he has to ask another question- their relationship thrives off of conflict, it's natural.

"Are you and him still working together?" He looks directly into her eyes; he wants information. He needs to know whether or not there's somebody else he needs to look out for when going about his daily super hero activities. Yeah.

"Yes," she hesitates, "well, kind of." She's avoiding his gaze and he wants to know why. She fidgets in her (well, his) seat. He gets this irresistible urge to go and hug her, hold her close and kiss her and do other things that he should definitely not be doing with his nemesis. He flexes his hands and tries to focus on anything else rather than what is going on in his head, which is apparently the way her red lips curve around her words as she speaks. "I kind of... Left him?"

"What?" His head flicks up at this, making eye contact with her, adrenaline flurrying through his body.

"We fought." She shrugs.

"What about?" He probably sounds pathetic and needy and nosy, but it's interesting him right now.

She laughs before she speaks. "Funnily enough... You, actually."

He startles for the second time that night. He blinks at her, a blank look on his face. "...me?"

"Yep. He thought you and I had a thing going on." She quirks an eyebrow, chuckling to herself. He just continues to stare at her. "Thought I was conspiring with the enemy."

He nods his head at her. "Were you and him, like, dating?" He gets suddenly anxious, which is a weird feeling considering how confident and brave he usually is.

"I guess. We had the occasional casual fuck. We never really put a label on what we were- you know, besides 'partners in crime'." She teases him. He winces at some of the terms she uses, mostly because he just does not like Montparnasse, plain and simple.

"I hate that name." He gets annoyed really quickly at the thought of that night, when he first met Montparnasse, after the fire.

She stands up now, lazily walking around his living room. He watches the curves of her body as she goes and inspects his book case. It's mostly filled with comic books (other super heroes interest him- plus, he can get tips on how to confuse and baffle Éponine with his cool moves), so she skims over most of them. When she moves over to the wall he dedicated to clippings of his career and how he got to where he is today, he decides to jump up and follow her around. She's looking at the articles of her that he saved when he gets to her. He stands behind her, not touching her, but so close that he can smell that her hair is strawberry scented (a nice comparison to her black stealthy outfit).

She turns directly to him and leans against the wall, rattling some of the frames as she leans on them. "Why do you hate him so much?" She looks at him through her lashes and he feels himself getting hypnotised by the innocent look she is giving him.

"He's bad news." He dips his head so he's closer to her. Only now does he realise the height difference between them.

She laughs briefly, then raises an eyebrow. "What, like I'm good news?"

He can't counteract that because he has absolutely no reason to hold her higher than any of the other villains out there. But right now, with her smirking at him in the darkly lit room, he thinks she's the best thing he's ever seen or heard.

She rests her hands on his chest then, so he figures that means he can move his own hands too. He places them on her hips and leans in a bit closer. He may not have actually encountered this circumstance before, but he has endured through enough stereotypical films that he knows where this type of situation is leading.

He doesn't want to say anything lest he ruin the moment, so he just inches his face closer to hers. He feels like he's 19 again and sat in that drunken circle, and she's leaning into him.

She kisses him this time, and, like last time, it starts off sweet and simple. He doesn't want to scare her away, so he doesn't move his hands yet, even though she's pulling herself closer to him. He's placing sweet kisses onto her red lips when she uninterestedly groans into his closed mouth. And that's when she pulls him so that he's almost pressing her into the wall, furiously shoving her tongue into his mouth, and making him lose all of his dignity.

There are times when he doesn't know which one of them is groaning, and the only thing that makes sense is holding her as close as possible, and there are times when he cannot hear anything over the blood pounding in his ears. He knows where it's all rushing toward, and he's pretty sure Éponine knows as well, since she's currently grinding into him.

He's still pressing her up against the wall, and he wants to move it to some place more comfortable and romantic, like he envisioned it (and, trust him, there was a lot of envisioning), but he just can't physically bring himself to tear his lips and hands and legs away from hers. She's all over him and it's amazing, but he wants this to be perfect, so he pulls away from her.

She immediately begins placing kisses on his neck, her hands clenching on his shoulders. He shudders. "W-wait," he breathes out, "let's- can we- would you like to-", he can't say a full sentence and he can't actually remember what he wanted to say in the first place.

She giggles at him. "Do you want to move somewhere more comfortable? Your legs feel like they're about to give way." He nods and drags her to his bedroom which seems further away than it usually is.

Now, everybody knows that a super hero's outfit has to be magical and brave and dashing. It's usually quite tight and stretchy for optimal flexibility, and covers just about every detail of the body for foolproof missions. However, what people don't know is just how _hard_ it is to take off. There is the smallest ever zip on the back of his suit, just covered by his cape that he usually only struggles with momentarily. But, as he stands there, frantically trying to grasp the small zipper behind him, he feels embarrassed. Éponine is stood there, easily peeling off her catsuit, smiling at him from across the bed. He's happy when he sees that she's not wearing anything under her costume, and when she crawls onto his bed, he thinks that if she gets any sexier, he may explode. He smiles back, but doesn't really know what to do when he finally gets the zip, but locks his arm in the most awkward position that he can't possibly move it without snapping the bone in half. He just stands there, not wanting to let the zip go, but not wanting to ruin his career at the same time.

Éponine gives up on watching him and crawls over to him, chuckling on the way. "Turn around." She giggles at him, bringing down the zip as she does so. He feels awkward now, turning around and bringing down his costume as she stares at him. He doesn't know where to look, because she's staring at his chest, and he'd really like to stare at hers but it might come off as creepy, so he decides to just stare at the ceiling.

He feels his face flush when he ends up just stood there, naked, in his room, staring at the boring white ceiling, desperately trying to kick the trousers off of his feet. He wants to move onto the bed, but he can't.

He jumps though when Éponine kneels up on the bed and kisses him, her fingers tugging on his hair. She must have sensed how he felt, because she's trying to gently pull him down onto the bed without breaking the kiss, which proves to be pretty easy once he wraps his arms around her petite frame. She's tiny, and he feels huge as he lays on top of her, trying to brace himself so he doesn't crush her.

They both end up writhing on each other, and he can literally feel how wet she is, and he just wants to do something about this feeling inside the pit of his stomach. Éponine breaks the kiss (something that he whimpers at, but tries to cover it up by distracting her with kissing and sucking at her neck), and leans partially down onto the floor. When she returns, she has a condom in her hand, and he looks up at her amusedly.

"Were you planning this?" He's left a suitably size hickey on her collar bone, so he's proud of his work, but he's currently clouded with the thought of Éponine thinking about what they're doing. Maybe he wasn't the only one after all.

"Why else would I come here?" She arches one perfectly shaped eyebrow, and giggles at him. He laughs too, but it quickly turns into a groan when she shifts beneath him. He feels like he's about to burst when she flips them over. He's not expecting the sudden position change, so it startles and confuses him a bit, but when she starts touching his dick and rolling the condom onto it, he loses all rational thought.

He's staring into her eyes when she positions him so that he's at her opening and slides down onto him. He can't even describe the feeling if he wanted to because it's too amazing. His hands are grasping at her back, and she's moving at such a pace that he feels his brain going into overdrive. He's panting before long and bucking his hips into hers, desperately trying to relieve the friction.

Her hands are pulling at his hair and she's grinding her hips down onto his when he realises this is probably going to fast. He's not a complete innocent, he's watched porn before, after all, he was a teenage boy not long ago. But from what he has seen, he should try and hold off for a while, he hasn't been keeping a track of time, but he thinks that this has been going really fast.

Éponine is equally as flustered as he is, but he really wants to make this mind blowing for her. He knows that she has... previous lovers (certain brown haired boys clad in black clothing that make a living out of theft and corruption), so he wants to show her that, despite his mostly celibate past, he can still be the best lover she's ever had. Her fringe is sticking to her forehead, and he sees that she might be getting a bit tired of doing all the work, so he makes a quick minded decision to turn them over.

It's surprisingly swift as well, considering he's never done it before, but she just sighs and pulls his head down onto her chest. He thrusts inside of her, and feels his mind go blank as instinct takes over. Her boobs, the same ones he's dreamt about a shameful number of times, are currently pressed against his face and he just lays there for a while before he realises he should probably do something. So, with a nervous glance at her face, he takes one of her nipples into his mouth and begins to gently suck on it, using his hand to massage the other breast. From her pleasured sigh and the desperate way she claws at his back and wraps her legs around his waist, he figures he's doing a good job.

Éponine drags his face back up to hers after a while, pulling him onto her lips, a feat he willingly accepts. He pushes his hands into her hair and tugs lightly on it when he feels himself building up to the much needed end. His rhythm begins to deter and his bed is almost slamming into the wall with how hard and fast he is going. Although, with the mumbled words he can hear coming out of Éponine's mouth, he's not going fast or hard enough, so he increases his tempo and almost slams into her. One of his arms is now laid beside her head and the other is bracing himself on the headboard, and he has lost all control of his bodily actions.

Éponine begins to clench around him and shudder beneath him, a sigh leaving her throat as she does so. She comes underneath him, pulling at him and shaking around him. It's the sexiest thing he's ever seen, and it almost bring him over the edge. She's breathing heavily and staring up at him when he desperately tries to warn her for a reason he's not even sure about. "Ep- ep, I'm gonna come."

He can't bring himself to tear his eyes away from hers, so he keeps them locked on hers when he finally climaxes inside of her. "Éponine!" He practically screams it, and he's really not surprised if his neighbours hear him. He tries to push himself as far inside her as possible, attempting to try and make her get used to the primal feel of him. He stills above her, feeling the sticky load release into the condom before he shudders down, burying his face into her neck.

"Well, this is new." She giggles at him. He lifts his head up and dozily smiles at her, a childish grin spreading across his face. He pulls out of her and removes the condom, tying it and throwing it in the bin beside the bed. Rolling over, he pulls her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling closer to her face.

"I can't explain to you how many times I've imagined that happening." He barely whispers it, staring at her in utter admiration.

"I have to admit; me too." She smirks at him, kissing him quickly on the lips.

He smiles at her, his chest swelling with a weird feeling- light and airy and happy. He just gazes at her, and wonders how the hell he got so lucky, he really won the lottery with the whole enemy thing. He doesn't understand how an actual human being could be so perfect.

She blushes under his intense gaze, trying to move her head away. "What?" She murmurs.

"God, you're beautiful." He pulls her closer and rests his chin atop her head. She buries her face into his chest and sighs. For some reason, he can't get this stupid grin off of his face.

"Goodnight, Éponine." He whispers to her, kissing the crown of her head.

"Night, loser." He chuckles softly before resting next to her.

* * *

He wakes up to an empty bed. The place where she occupied last night is cold and he feels really alone. There aren't any clothes on the floor, besides his, and there are no traces that she was ever in his bedroom last night. That is until he sits up and realises that she must be in the kitchen or the living room. At least now he knows that she's an early riser.

Standing up, he puts a pair of boxers on and strolls into the kitchen. However, walking through the living room, there is nobody there. There isn't anybody in the kitchen either.

He checks all the rooms, but there isn't any evidence to show that she might have ever been at his apartment at all. Surely he hadn't imagined it, and if he did, it would be pretty embarrassing. But, no, as he stands in the bathroom, he sees a very obvious hickey that he distinctly remembers receiving from Éponine. It definitely happened. And she definitely left.

He feels a sadness settle into his stomach. It's a mix of disappointment, loneliness, anger, and dejection, and it feels like shit. He misses her.

* * *

There's a small part of him that is surprised when she gets a new accomplice. It's a boy called Grantaire, or more commonly, R, and once he learns that, he decides to look into him, work out whether he's real danger.

However, what he finds is totally unexpected. He was a famous artist over in England a couple of years ago, then suddenly went under the radar, and showed up here in Paris. It's surprising, that somebody could change occupations so quickly, but he accepts it and carries on.

They announce their partnership with him at the scene. The fayre is in town, so he feels like he should go out of respect for his hometown. Plus, it's great fun. But, when an inhuman amount of black smoke comes out of the ghost train, and Éponine and a dude with black hair show up on the top of the ride, people look at him for help, and he just stands there assessing their every move.

Grantaire is the one who speaks. "I know you're all probably thinking 'oh no, not another villain, this city is going to fall to the ground'- but that's not what we're here for. All we want is some attention, we want people to be afraid of us. We're not gonna kill anyone, we're just gonna mess thing up a bit, okay?" He puts a sympathetic smile on his face, and Enjolras just wants to punch it off.

And then Éponine continues. "And, if my past experiences are correct, I'm sure your great hero, Enjolras, will save you all." She grins at them all. "Now, I know you know who I am. But I've got a new accomplice now," she points to the black haired man, "this is R, and you shall call him as such." The man in question takes a mocking bow, then starts speaking.

"This has been a public service announcement, please go back to your busy lives." Then the smoke comes back and they're gone when it clears away.

He tries to think of a way to get in contact with her, but despite the fact that she isn't buying raspberries, or that she isn't frequenting any of her old hideouts, he has no idea where she lives.

So he decides to try and find out. He has connections, surely they'll know. But then he realises- if they know where she lives, they'll be able to take her down. So, to avoid the risk of anybody else getting to her before him, he sets to find out where he can't find her.

* * *

After a long time of thinking where she could live and who could know, he decides to ask the one person he's sure has an idea: Montparnasse.

And it turns out Montparnasse isn't that difficult to find. He finds him at the local bar, sat on a bar stool, sipping down a whisky. He takes a seat next to him and orders a water- he gets a weird look from the barman, but he's pretty sure his liver is giving him a thumbs up, so it's no big deal. He does attract the intended attention from Montparnasse though, who looks at him, then looks straight back down at his drink after he realises who it is.

"I heard about you and Éponine." Enjolras starts is. "And I'd just like to tell you how sorry I am." He's not sorry, not at all. But he wants to get information out of him, so he puts on his best sympathy face.

"Fuck off. We both know you probably had a one person party when you heard about us."

He doesn't deny it, because the thing is, he kind of had a two person party, but that seems a little in appropriate to say right now, so he just looks at his water and sips at it.

Montparnasse sighs. "So, what is it that you want?"

"What? Can't I just come in here and have a nice drink on my own?" He fakes innocent, but knows that he's going to end up asking the desired question any moment now.

"No, because nobody orders a glass of water at this kind of bar." He looks around and sees that almost everybody is drunk, and if they aren't already plastered, they're well on their way.

"Okay. Fine." He settles his glass down. "I need some information." He turns around and stares at the man.

"On Éponine?" At his confused face, Montparnasse continues, "oh, please, it's obvious you like her." He shakes his head at him.

He suddenly gets very shy. "Really?"

"Yes, now what do you want?" He's obviously getting bored talking to him, so he tries to speed it up a bit.

"Where does Éponine live?"

Montparnasse gives him a sideways glance. "That's classified information."

"Come on, I'm trustworthy!" He says indignantly. He's probably the last person who would ever want to do anything bad to Éponine, he needs this address if it's ever gonna be okay between them again.

"It's Éponine's address. She's your nemesis. Just because Éponine and I aren't on speaking terms anymore, doesn't mean I'm just going to give out her address to anybody, even if the person who wants the address is in love with her." He then chugs down the remnants of his drink, slams the glass down on the bar, then storms out of the place.

* * *

So, after such a disastrous attempt at asking people where she lives, he results to work out for himself where she lives. At first he tells himself that it's gonna be easy, that he'll be able to figure it out within the hour- she found out where he lives, surely he can find out where she lives. But then he realises that she's a villain, that she covers up her tracks pretty well. It's gonna be harder than he thought.

But then he sees her at the local supermarket two weeks later. She's blocking his way to the raspberries again, but this time he just stands there and watches her. It probably looks pathetic, stealthily watching her from behind the next aisle. But it's working, so he accepts that he looks stupid.

She grabs three packages of raspberries, then buys a copy of this month's Vogue, then heads to the cashiers. He goes through the self service as quickly as possible, seeing as almost all of his items requested staff attention (which resulted in many looks of admiration, some of pride, and he's pretty sure one of the women tried to flirt with him). But he end up sitting on the bench outside the doors, patiently waiting for her to exit.

When she does, she heads straight for a black BMW- he should have guessed she would have a car like that. So, when she drives off, he starts to follow her. Their cars contrast dramatically, him in a bright red Ferrari, and her in her shiny BMW. He feels almost like a stalker, but then he remembers that she might have done the same thing.

They pull up at a large house, almost in the middle of the city. It's plain and pretty and looks like it should accommodate a normal family. Really, he doesn't know what he was expecting; a haunted mansion of some sort with lightning constantly striking it and dramatic music playing through speakers. There are flowers on the front garden, and the neighbours seem to be happy and not at all in unrepressed fear.

When he sees her get out of her car, he ducks down. He needs to hide to make sure it doesn't look like her went through so much trouble to find where she lives that he actually stalked her home like some creepy obsessed loser.

There's a knock on his car window, and he automatically winds the window down, seeing Éponine there. She has an unamused look on her face, and he gulps, smiling embarrassedly.

"Are you going to come in, or what?" Then she turns around and walks calmly up to her house.

He, on the other hand, stumbles out of his car and nearly face plants the floor, quickly composing himself as he follows her up the path to her doorway. She stands at the blue door, holding it open with a bored look on her face. She sighs as he reaches her, and walks off down the hall when he takes the door and closes it behind him.

Like before, what he finds is not what he expected. There is no black, there are no creepy painting on the walls. It is all normal. So he follows her into the living room- it's white and light blue and looks like something a mother would design.

She sits down on a blue sofa and he takes a seat next to her. There are other chairs in the room, but he wants to have a serious conversation, so he should be as close as possible- that's his reasoning anyway.

"Okay, what are you doing in my house?"

He jumps. He didn't expect her to start so fast. He stutters. "You- you asked if I was going to-", he's scared for some reason.

But she cuts him off. "Let me rephrase that. Why did you follow me home?" She's staring at him now, accusatory.

"Because- um." He forgotten now, so he just sits there for a while and looks at her.

"Well?" She raises an eyebrow at him, but not in the teasing way she used to.

"You left that morning." She looks away, and he continues. "Why?"

She sits and thinks for a while. He just stares at her for the whole time, before she takes a breath and looks out of the window. "How was I supposed to stay? It was _embarrassing_." She looks at him after that, and she turns at the exact point that he feels his heart hurt. His face conveys the feeling and he imagines that the muscles in his face make him look like a screwed up piece of paper. "No- no, that's no what I mean. I meant that it's embarrassing for me- not for me about you. Wait, what?" She shakes her head at herself. "All I'm saying is that it would have been stupidly embarrassing to wake up together. Imagine how awkward it would have been. What would we even have said?" She probably meant it to be rhetorical, but he decides to answer it anyway.

"I don't know, we probably would have spoken about the night before. Told each other why it happened, stuff like that." He shrugs, still looking at her.

She sighs and leans back. "I'm sorry." She shakes her head. "I should never have done it. Everything would be so much easier if we would have just stayed as enemies."

"It was never just us as enemies, Éponine. Well, not for me, anyway." He says it, then releases what the hell just came out of his mouth. He mentally curses himself.

She does a double take. "Wait, what?" She sits up and looks at him directly.

He sighs. "Okay. I- uh- well, at least I think I do, actually, no, that's now true, I know I do, but I just really, really, really-"

"Get on with it."

"-like you. Yeah, I like you. It took me a while to realise it, but I do. So, yeah, that's it. And that's why I followed you home. Sorry about that, by the way."

She just sits there in shock. "Oh."

And that's when he realises it. Besides from the mind blowing sex, she never initiated anything or hinted towards liking him. He had started all their conversations (besides from the mind blowing sex night), she had almost been forced into kissing him that first time, it was all him. She probably didn't like him. She probably only wanted a nice fuck because of what happened with Montparnasse. He feels used and pathetic and he thinks he might cry, so he quickly looks away from her.

"Well, I guess that's good then." She says it quite clearly, but he's still trapped in his haze of self loathing, so he doesn't hear it properly.

"What?" He mumbles ashamedly, still keeping his head down.

"I like you, so it's good that you like me too." She shrugs.

"You- what? _Really_?" He smiles at her, grinning excitedly all of a sudden. "You're not joking?"

"No, I actually do. It's surprising, I know." She teases, and he almost jumps on her. He's glad they're on a settee, because he ends up hugging her and laying on top of her.

"So, what does this mean?" He feels like the awkward fifteen year old he never really got to be.

"It means we can either be girlfriend and boyfriend or be awkward with each other for the rest of our lives." She smiles from beneath him.

He mockingly ponders over the two options. "Well, despite the attractiveness of the second option, I resolutely choose the first." He nods at her.

"Great."

"Does that mean I can call you my girlfriend now?" He says it innocently, because a) he genuinely wants to make sure she's okay with it, and b) he's never had a girlfriend before.

"I suppose so."

"And it means you can call me your boyfriend?"

"If you want."

"And it means I can kiss you whenever I want?"

"Sure."

"And it means that-"

"Oh, shut up and kiss me, loser."

So he does just that.


End file.
